Monday Off

Sam brought Buddy up to bed before he left for work in the morning. I fell back to sleep snuggly and warm. I woke up again at 10am. Buddy had his head resting on my thigh, sound asleep, snoring.

I sat up and leant against the wall. I could see the sun shining beyond the curtains. I could see that the sky was blue. I was so warm, so comfy. Buddy opened one eye and looked at me. I could have stayed there all day.

But... I soon decided that I had lay in bed long enough and that I should get up and, as Sam says to me, Do do do! It was time to eat, it was time to go to the dog park, surely. If I did nothing else...

My hip still hurts a bit, when I get up, mostly. Once I am walking, it is okay. I put my muesli in a bowl and headed to the shower. I had a big bowl of bananas to cut up and put on the top, once I was dressed.

I never told you about my accident, did I? I'm not sure why? Anyway...

I’d eaten my breakfast and I was putting on my shoes, when Buddy came running down the stairs from the bed. I didn’t even have to click his harness buckle at the bottom of the stairs to get him out of bed. I don’t know what he’d heard, but he’d worked it out. He wiggled, as usual, as I put his harness on him. He's smart. He can sense what I am doing. he doesn't miss much.

It was a lovely day at the dog park, sunny and warm. There were lots of dogs and lots of owners. Lily, the Basset’s, owner extolled the pleasure of seeing so many different types of dogs running around. She also had a wire-haired dog too, the name of which I also forget. It was Blair, or Bryce, or something like that, that kept the Basset on its toes.

It was a day for the owners to congregate in the middle of the park, as the dogs did all the exercise. Buddy and I didn't do our laps, like we usually do.

Olive, the black and white Frenchie, was adorable. She was getting way too excited jumping on Barney, the Jug (Jack Russell/Pug) she was harassing. Grrrrrrrrr!!! Her owner was too funny when he pulled her off, saying, You are getting just a little too Linda Blair on us Olive. Too cute, it was a great description.

I asked if I could take a photo, as my boyfriend wants to buy a fawn Frenchie and I quite like the black and white ones. He responded that his boyfriend wanted a fawn Frenchie but he got his way liking black and white ones better. Just a couple of poofs with their bulldogs. It didn't occur to me that he was gay up until that point.

Olive, the bulldog, made me think all about Olive the bitch auntie. I wrote about her later.

There was the Rough Basset, which I’d never heard of before. I’ve forgotten his name, it was something French.

The old girls turned up, as they want to do. Old Girl #1’s mental Jack Russell, yapped and bit at her obese Jack Russell as it is want to do.

I did photos all afternoon. OMG will my photos ever finish? It was sunny and bright and quite lovely, one of those sparkling days. The day slipped away, too quickly, I felt. Back to my pissy little job tomorrow, how disappointing, I thought. I should have done greater things, I could have, it is just a shame, really. Will I ever? I have to get passed the sense of disappointment, and it’s-all-too-late, first.

I spoke to Mark. He was sitting on his balcony in the sunshine up north. He talked about the big deck renovation he is going to do. He’s had a builder over to give him a quote. He thinks it will cost 40K. It is more than a deck. There is also a room under the deck and under the house, like a self contained guest's room. But it is the deck that will be the feature, out the front at the top of the steeply sloping garden.

I stupidly ate lasagne followed by apple cake in front of Mark on Skype. He, of course, had to comment. He didn’t believe me when I told him how much I weighed. 80 kilos when I am smoking. 85 kilos when I am not. It fluctuates between the two. He clearly thinks I weigh more. I'm not sure what he thinks I way?

“Are you happy with that weight?”

“No, I am not.”

Mark can't help himself, the job his mother did on him about gaining weight.

Sam rang several times during the afternoon telling me to take the mince meat out of the freezer, then to put it back, then to take it out again. He'd been out shopping for dinner and was clearly not able to make up his mind. It was funny and made me laugh. He laughed too, even if he said I could just keep quiet unless I wanted to organise the dinner menu.

We ate mince topped rice noodles for dinner, with chilli. It was nice.

Sam went to bed at nana time, 20.40.

I went to bed an hour later.

Sam got up and had a piss when I went to bed, walking like a Doctor Seuss charter to the bathroom and back again. It makes me laugh. He said my name, which was probably a rebuke for coming to bed so late. I said his name, but he didn’t want to talk. I can see his sideways looks, even standing at the toilet with his dick out in the dark.

In bed...

Sweet dreams, pumpkin.

Grunt.

Kisses and hugs.

Grunt.

Don’t let the bed bugs bite.

Grunt, grunt.